Blood Wedding

The truth was that when Fargo had known Jed in former days, he had been after women like a bear after honey, pretty much the same as Fargo. Jed had guided a few wagon trains with Fargo, and more than once he had come close to getting himself shot because he couldn’t stay away from a pretty woman. All that had changed when he met Abby Watkins. According to Jed, the first time he saw her, he felt like a man who’d been kicked in the head by a stallion, and from that time on he’d never even thought about another woman.

“And you know, Skye,” he’d told Fargo, “women were all I used to think about. Even for a while around here, I couldn’t keep my hands off of ’em. But I’m a different man now.”

He surely was. He’d given up his wandering life, and he was going to be a Kansas farmer. Instead of leading wagon trains out of St. Louis, he was going to let other men, men like Fargo, take the pilgrims out of the plains. He was going to walk behind a mule, plow up the earth, and plant seeds. He was going to feed his chickens and grow his corn and cattle and try to make a living at it. Before long, if everything went the way Jed planned, he would have sons to help him out.

Fargo wondered a little about that. Lemuel Watkins had never had sons of his own, but he did have a pretty daughter and a big farm, along with a big barn and a tight-plastered house. Now, because of the daughter, he was getting himself a son to share the work, since Jed and Abby planned to live on the farm with him.

“It will be our farm when he passes on,” Jed had explained, so maybe he and Watkins were both getting something out of the deal.

And Jed was getting Abby into the bargain, so Fargo figured it wasn’t such a bad trade. Not one that he’d make, but not bad if that was what a man wanted.

“It’s going to be a good life, Fargo,” Jed said. “Different, that’s for sure, and not what I’m used to, but good. With Abby, it would have to be.”

“I wish you well,” Fargo said, “and now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a dance with your bride-to-be.”

“As long as you’re going to stand up for me tomorrow at the wedding, I can’t very well refuse you the pleasure of a dance,” Jed said. “But I know you from way back, Fargo. Just be sure to keep your hands where they belong and to talk about the weather or the music.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t trust me.”

“I trust you all right, but when a wolf is in among the hens, it pays to be a little extra careful. Lem lost nearly seventy-five hens to wolves last winter, and I don’t plan to lose Abby to any wolf, animal or human, not even you.”

Fargo laughed. “You’re already talking like a farmer, Jed. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’d never try anything funny with anybody you cared about. You know that.”

“You’re right. I do. So go have your dance, and have some fun. Not too much fun, though.”

The fiddler’s tune was over, and the dancers were taking a breath before he got started again. There were several young men moving in Abby’s direction, but Fargo got to her first, and the other men stopped and looked at each other disgustedly for a second or two before moving off to find other partners.

It was clear that they didn’t think much of Fargo, who looked different from all of them. They were dressed in their Sunday best, while Fargo was in his buckskins. And while most of them were lean and fit from working their farms, there was something about Fargo’s build that suggested he knew how to handle himself in dangerous situations. And that he had, more than once.

Fargo had met Abby earlier, and she greeted him with a slightly worried smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, Fargo,” she said as they began the dance. “Jed could use a few more friends like you.”

There wasn’t time to say more, but Fargo knew what she meant. He’d talked to Jed and Lem about it the day before when he’d arrived at the farm. Kansas was in a turmoil because of the slavery issue. The free-staters were moving in and settling down, determined that there would be no slavery there, while the pro-slavery crowd was just as determined that Kansas would enter the union as a slaveholding state. The two groups had come into conflict, and the conflict had eventually become violent, with bloody clashes becoming more and more frequent, particularly in the eastern part of the state where the Watkins farm was located. The territorial government favored slavery and got the help of the United States Army to keep the free-staters under control, but the free-staters formed their own militia to fight back.